Obsessive Love

You know who you are....you taunt me with your sashaying down wacker. Your perky spiky hair, talking on the phone, daring me to look in your direction. I want you to dress me... I want to drink cosmos with you while watching endless hour of sex in the city (and I hate that show). I want to have late night phone calls in which we giggle and talk about boys....ohhhhhhh cutest most adorable gay man on earth....why must you be so cruel????

Beware!

Just saying......

Good job Niemi! You did us proud in game 1 boys!

No...seriously...they're real...

Well........one of those days in which you get a wake up call that yes, you are that damn old. I enjoy being my age, truly, but sometimes........ I was doing laundry and since I'm schluberella in attire today I do not have a bra on. I am a chipper bouncy little thing so when I go down the stairs to move the laundry around I usually do it with a jaunty step. I go down the stairs and hear a definite slapping sound.....the sound of my breasts slapping against my body. Fascinating. Horrifying...but.......sort of made me feel good for a moment cause who knew I was so voluptuous?? Yea me!!!!! (Sadly after thinking about it, I think it simply means gravity is stretching them into sock puppets)

Saturday musings...

So......

I am not sure why this made me laugh. Lion brand yarn sends me weekly emails...(Yea, I like to knit, shut the hell up!!). Today the subject line was "Washcloth of the day!". Hmmm... woo hoo!!!!

Got B's diploma, cum laude, in the mail. Wow. He did all the work but I feel all the pride! Wish my mom were still here. I would have gone over there, she would have clapped her hands together and done her "ooohhh" noise. Then we would get something that we could "make a meal out of". (inside joke...no I'm not explaining)

Laughed so hard last night that my nose ran. Dead sexy...

Have one of those glorious saturdays where I really don't have to do anything or go anywhere at any certain time. Destined to spend a lot of time right here in my bed with my laptop and my coffee. Bad tv, some gooey cake, oooohhh...heaven.

You can't make this stuff up

So my beloved iPod is dying. This is my constant companion, my friend, my protector from the insepid chattering conversation on the train. It is like sitting at the bed side of someone dying watching the life slowly ebb away (which sadly I have done...whoops, sorry mom, just equated you with an iPod and on mothers day!). The problem? This is it simply - my hole is too big. Serious. My freakin hole is too big. Oh, I know, you say "well get a bigger male adapter". Sorry sunshine, no can do as they make the male ends of the headphones in one size only....and it is too small for my hole. I think after constant use, dropping it and pulling out quickly, my hole has gotten damaged. Sigh. So on to the story.........

It is gorgeous out so I went for a run. Have on my target jogging shorts and am enjoying the beautiful weather..........when....my iPod ceases to exist. Well it is existing but no noise is coming out. No sound, no music, no Hansens (I think most of you remember THAT story)..... continuing to wear this on your ears and hold it is about the same as wearing a dead animal on your head. So I stop, wrap it up and do the only sensible thing....I put it in the waistband of my jogging shorts. It seems fairly secure and I run. A few moments in the iPod dislodges itself and starts to head south and is floating around the panty portion of these jogging shorts. I stop so that I can stick my hand into my pants and retrieve it when I am accosted by my new neighbors on a leisurely sunday walk........sadly, when I stop the iPod rests itself against my pubic bone and points itself outward...yes.....like a, um, hardon. I am not sure what to do....should I stick my hand down my pants causing my neighbors to wonder what in the heck type of pervert do they live by or hope they don't notice this protrusion from my nether region.......well I do the next logical thing...I cross my legs....which makes it point out even further....they hastily turn and walk away muttering to each other. I shove my hand down my pants and pull out the offending iPod. The iPod that has been such a faithful companion and now, in its final moments betrays me! My neighbors now believe they live next to a transvestite, transexual, transwhatever.......I have always wanted to start a band called grannies and trannies...I just used to think I'd be the granny!!!

Cutest most adorable gay man on earth

I walk from the train into the city to my job every morning and then back to the train again at nite. In my journeys I pass many people, a lot of whom I now recognize. It is like the people on the train. Very familiar yet very much anonymous. Whenever I have seen these people at places other than the train or in the city on the street there is at once a nagging thought in the back of my head (where do I know them from?) followed up by the uncertainty of what the etiquette is. Do I acknowledge them? I mean I know them but I don't know them. There have been a couple of ocassions that you spot one of your fellow commuters back in the burbs at the same time they spot you and there is a rush of smile, intake of breath and an Aha! Normally you continue on your path and usually tell the person you are with "they are on my train!". There are times however that I feel compelled to accost people because I find them so interesting or adorable....hence my current dilemma with my cutest most adorable gay man on earth. I pass him almost every morning and every evening on wacker. Sometimes on Lake. He is perfectly coiffed, coordinated and pressed. He has a jaunty, saucy, fluid way of walking with a purposeful look on his face. I have played in my head the conversation a million times.."Hello!! I just wanted to say I find you so well put together and stylish!" "Oh, what a dear you are!" or perhaps "tsk, stalker!". It makes my morning to see him walking towards me. It completes my work day when I am walking to the train and he passes me going home. I have an entire fantasy world (he has a loving boyfriend, crazy hag girlfriends, is a gourmet cook with an extensive wine collection) in which he lives. It is almost one of those scary situation in which you hope the reality meets the fantasy but sadly, rarely does. Well, I guess for now my cutest most adorable gay man on earth, you are safe from my clutches.